I observed the existence of Erna from a distance. I never actually took an active part, but was to watch with loving interest the progress she made. I was to remain objective; in time, this would become difficult. It was clear from the beginning that this one would be a different story and I was not sure what part she would play in future events. I noted at her inception a sense of delight in all that was present to her. I was amazed at her clear sightedness and noted her vision did not appear blurred. There was no hesitancy on her part to embrace all that was within her grasp. Yes, even then, I sensed a presence which appeared to be separate, yet very much a part of her. Love is not something that can be seen, but certainly can be sensed, and love's presence radiated strongly from the area of this little one. Although the presence could not touch her, in the way that humans comprehend, the presence emitted an energy far surpassing the touch of man. She knew of no other type of existence and any variation of this was unknown to her.

I want you to understand Erna's growth from the perspective of my ancient observer's eye. I would ask that you see in your mind's eye a child of eleven and older. You are, by the way, allowed to span time with your imagery. See her standing in a garden under the shadow and presence of an immense tree. The tree branches out, as most trees do, yet you sense a protective umbrella. For myself, once again, I thought back to the presence I sensed surrounding her during the beginnings of her existence. I watched her displays of indignation and resolve, saw her crusades, counted her tears, noted the times she fell, and respected her will to rise again. I wondered what drama she enacted in the garden, just her and a tree.

This little one, who you might say was well into her adolescence, walked to an area under the tree, sat down and then hung her head. For her, there was no comprehension that all evil could not be transformed by love. I counted the tears and noted their warmth. In the garden, the presence seemed to surround her as she cried her tears of grief and defeat. It was then that I finally had understood. The child's love for the presence was as strong as the presence's love for her. She reached out in her longing to touch the presence, which loved so greatly but could not touch. She resolved this would be the gift of love she would bring to the presence.

As I watched, she slipped away from the place where time was not and entered the world with the ease of warm butter. I also noted with interest as Mr. Smyth tipped his hat and strolled pass the doorman to enter the elevator. When he reached his destination, family members greeted him with cries of "It's a girl!" "It's a girl!" To those who surrounded him, he bowed his head with what appeared to be deep humility and said, " We will call her Erna." I observed from my place in eternity, where life begins death and death begins life, that instead of a smile, there appeared a sneer. I wondered again about the little one's struggles in the garden. Evil knew her, of that I was sure, but did she know evil well enough to bring back a gift so great?